A Witcher's Journey
by Commander Mander
Summary: It all started with a dream. It's meaning, unknown. All that you do know is what your are, what your task is, and that this is your story.
1. A Dream

It is nighttime. As the darkness envelops the forest around you, you sit on a log, feet outstretched, warming your boots by a campfire. Your attention is not focused on the fire specifically, yet more so what hovers over it. Two sticks set into the ground about 2 feet apart to hold up another stick, to which a fish is attached, roasting slowly. You wish you'd had anything else but fish, as that's all you've eaten for the past week. You have no clue how long you've wandered this forest, how you got lost, or what you were doing in the first place. You pull a small amount of salt out of your pocket, some you bought at an inn shortly before your journey. You sprinkle it over your catch before plucking the stick from over the fire, blowing on the fish, and taking a bite. As you prepare to take another, a great green flash from behind the trees just ahead of you startles you, causing you to nearly drop your meal. You here a rustling, and then, nothing.

You gently place your fish back over the fire before pulling your dagger from behind your back. You slowly creep toward the forest, careful to be as quiet as possible. If something threatening lurks beyond the trees your hope is to get it before it gets you. As you move beyond the trees, you trip over something, or perhaps, someone.

A woman with light colored hair and Witchers clothing lies face down in the mud. You're not sure if she's hurt or dead or how she got there. You inch your index finger towards her, yet just as your skin comes into contact with hers you're jolted backwards and then...

You wake up.

The Velen sun warms your face as you slowly lift your head off of the stone it layed on. Just a bit away from your feet the campfire you'd built the night before lies dead, nothing but a pile of ash.

You sit up, recalling the dream you'd just awoken from. It's the only one you've had for weeks on end, yet you are unable to discern its meaning. A message? Perhaps even a prophecy. Some of its details vary from time to time, yet every time you have it you're unable to see the face of the unconscious lady with the light colored hair dressed in Witchers clothing. You wonder if she is real, if maybe you'd crossed paths with her in the past, or maybe if she is just a metaphor for something greater that lurks in your future. You shake off the thought for now.

You stand up and stretch your limbs. You grab your dagger from where it was placed next to your stone pillow and sheath it behind your lower back. You pick up your two swords and crossbow place them back in their rightful position behind your back as well. You move toward the water, kneeling by the lake and washing your face. You gaze at your reflection, noticing your short, disheveled, dark brown hair as your glowing orange eyes glare back at you. You notice that your medallion, the shaped as a cat, is slightly lopsided, likely shuffling its position as you tossed and turned in your sleep. You adjust it back to its rightful position. You move from water, pulling your hood over your head as you start your journey from the forest to the nearest town.

You take your time in your travel, as you currently have no specific goal in mind. Once you get there, it is nearly supper time. The aroma of roasted pork, your favorite meal, wafts into your nose from a nearby inn. Your stomach roars with hunger as you try to recall your last meal. Three days ago, perhaps? You pull a small pouch of gold pieces from your pocket and shake it. Maybe just enough for a room, a warm meal, and a few drinks, but you ought to find a contract soon. The night looms toward you and you decide to spend a night in the town.

You make your way to the inn, approaching the female innkeep.

"What'll it be?"

"A room, a pork sandwich, and a cup of mead."

You place the required amount of currency on the counter. The innkeep nods.

"Upstairs and two doors down on the right is where you'll find your room. If you'd like to eat first take any open seat and it'll be there right away."

You express your gratitude with a slight bow and head to the empty table in the back of the inn.

An hour and two pork sandwiches later a server approaches you. You place a gold piece on the table and in exchange he sets another cup of mead by your side, your third one. You take a sip and unwind, staring into the candlelight as memories of your reoccurring dream flood back to you.

You close your eyes as you envision yourself in front of a campfire, legs outstretched, munching on a helping of fish. A great green blast shakes the forest and you snatch your dagger from behind your back. You creep toward the forest and...

A hand a cold heavy hand is placed on your left should, shaking you from your anamnesis.

You turn slowly, careful not to make any swift movements that would cause your hood to shift position.

To your surprise, a Nilfgaardian soldier hovers over you. Not only that, but he is accompanied by five more.

"You're coming with us."

Sensing imminent danger, you contemplate an onslaught. You know for a fact that you could easily overpower this small group of soldiers in a flash, yet maybe whoever sent them knew that, and they're not there to capture you. You choose your words carefully, attempting to uncover their motive.

"Am I under arrest?"

"No. The emperor would like to see you."

Although the man's accent irritates you, you decide to continue the conversation anyway.

"What does he want with me?"

"That is his business and his business alone. Come with us."

"What if I don't want to see him?"

"Then we will have to take you by force. We are giving you the opportunity to come willingly. Would you like to take it or not?"

You chug the last of your mead and stand uneasily. You nod.

"This way, please."


	2. She is My Daughter

After a lengthy carriage ride you finally arrive at the royal palace in Vizima. A guard reaches for your hand to help you off, which you swat away, hopping off the carriage and stretching your legs. You are soon greeted by an older looking man with a rough face and a crooked red nose, who, given his sense of style, gives you the impression that he is a royal fool.

"Greetings," he introduces with a slight bow, "You must be-"

"I'm here to see the emperor," you hastily interrupt. You're certainly not one for pleasantries, especially when they involve people that forcefully drag you to their kingdom with unknown intentions. "I would like this to be quick."

The man scoffs. "Very well. But you shall not see the emperor of Nilfgaard dressed as you are. You shall be-"

"I shall be dressed the way I am."

"Pfft. All you Witchers, the same. At least the one that was here last was not as intolerable as you. Fine, I shall lead you this way."

The man makes a waving gesture with his hand toward the far end of the hallway. You give him a nod and take the lead.

You come into an extravagent set of double doors which two guards standing on either side open for you. The steward steps ahead of you giving what you suspect to be an introduction in Nilfgaardian. He then bows and behooves you to do the same. You do not. The Emperor mumbles something back in his language and everyone leaves the room.

The two of you are left alone, trapped in what seems much like a staring competition. He clears his throat to break the silence, or maybe to give himself time to think of his next sentence. Finally, he addresses you.

"You are incredibly difficult to find, you know that, don't you?"

"Why were you trying to find me in the first place?"

He drags out a moment of silence, contemplating his response. While awaiting his reply you focus on his hand, balled into a fist, a coin trapped between his index and middle finger's knuckles. You are fixated on the rapid tapping of this coin upon his desk and the annoying sound that it makes as it does so. He hastily flips the coin and bolts up from his seat, facing the window.

"I have sought someone with your, shall we call them, 'talents' ever since I heard the news. You are not only a Witcher, but one of the School of the Cat, a highly skilled assassin, correct?"

"Assassins kill people for coin. I only kill monsters for coin."

"Whatever you want to call it you are damned good at finding people, and damned good at doing it without leaving a trail."

"You still haven't told me why I was brought here. You want me to kill someone, I presume?"

"Assassins kill for coin, as you said. I will be paying you, not to kill, but to find."

"Who?"

He takes a deep breath and holds it, then turns around. He flips over a paper on his desk and pushes it towards you. You come closer to examine it.

"A... woman?"

"Not just any woman. This is Cirilla, and she is my daughter." He puts his hands on the table and leans closer to you. "I was told she left to another world. Now, she is back, and she is being pursued by The Wild Hunt. You will find her and bring her to me."

Still studying the paper, you continue.

"The Wild Hunt, you say?" For a moment, you think about what that means. You've encountered The Hunt in the past, an event you pushed to the back of your mind ever since that fateful day. Not only have you been presented with an opportunity to obtain a large sum of gold, but also an opportunity for revenge.

"You said you would pay me?"

"Handsomely." He pushes himself away. "I've already hired another Witcher for the job as well as a sorceress." He opens the desk and pulls out a pouch of gold, tossing it in your direction. You pick it up and sift through it, estimating how much might be there.

"If you bring her back to me first, unharmed and with her... honor unbesmirched, I shall pay you double what I have already offered the first Witcher. She shall then take a king and assume her rightful position as empress of Nilfgaard. Do I make myself clear?"

You tuck the gold away into your pocket then pick up the paper, folding it several times and tucking it into your chest pocket. You look him in the eye and subtly nod.

"Good." He crosses his hands behind his back. "I shall not let you leave this room with a cold trail. Cirilla has been seen in two places so far: Velen and Novigrad. Start wherever you please."

He sits back down at his desk as you turn to leave the room.

"Oh, and Witcher, one such as yourself who covers their tracks by constantly changing their identity, what shall I call you?"

You halt and turn your head to face him only.

"No one knows my real name. You can call me Jag."

He speaks with amusement ripe in his voice. "The School of the Cat and you use an abbreviation of the word 'Jaguar' for a name. Very clever. Please leave now."

You snap your head forward and continue your path to the palace exit.


	3. Face Down in the Dirt

It's been two weeks since you started your search for Ciri. First you made your way through Velen. You figured the best course of action was to speak with the "Bloody Baron" since it was assumed that he'd know of any out of the ordinary visitors of his province. However, he was not there. His henchmen informed you that he made off to a swamp with another Witcher to find his wife. He hadn't been back since. From there you made your way to Novigrad.

Once you arrived in Novigrad you weren't sure of where you begin. You knew that looking for one woman in a particularly large city would be like looking for a needle in a hay stack. You figured your best bet here would be to search for other outcasts who she might have acquainted with. Perhaps a sorceress?

You knew of one who was holed up in some dank house in the bits. You'd personally never met her before, but you knew many Witchers that had, all of which would say there was some connection between Witchers and sorceresses. When you went to check it out, you were informed by the homeowners that she left days ago and hadn't been back since.

And that was when your trail went cold.

You left Novigrad headed in any which direction you pleased. You came upon a small town and stayed in the inn there. You lie awake in bed staring at the portrait of the young woman as as a candle at your bedside dimly lights drawing, just enough for you to see. Your eyes get heavier the more you focus on the image. Suddenly, you're sucked back into dreamland.

The candlelight becomes the light of a campfire. The room at the inn transforms itself into a dark, dank forest. Your pillow becomes a stone. You look up at the stars as you rest your head, the smell of burning logs wafts into your nostrils. You sit up. A great green flash breaks the night as well as your slumber.

You're shaken awake as you jolt up in bed, sweat moistening your forehead. Realizing that your are wasting time, you grab your armaments and strap then to your person. You leave the inn, tossing a few coins on the counter on your way out.

As you leave the town you see there is nothing ahead but dense forest. You don't really care where you're headed at this point, all you know is you need to keep moving and taking action. You wander the forest until night becomes day and day becomes night. You continue until you are no longer keeping track of the sun as it rises and sets. You never failed to find someone before, and you will not let this be the first time.

Days later you are still walking. The sun is at its peak as it beats down upon you. Your perspiration has become so intense it drips onto the ground creating trails, and it soaks through your armor. Your legs have become so heavy you are near collapse, and soon enough, you do.

Some time later you awake. The moon rises above you and the night penetrates your surroundings. You slowly push yourself up and ahead you can see the moonlight glistening upon a body of water. You muster all of your strength to reach it. Kneeling down, you dump your head into the lake and drink heavily. Once you are done you fall onto your back and look towards the stars. You lay there for a few more moments, enjoying the view, and then lift yourself up, moving to a spot fit to build a campfire.

By the time you've completed the building of the fire, you sit upon a log and your stomach gurgles fiercely, begging for food. You decide to dive into the forest, hopefully coming upon a sleeping boar, or a plant, or just anything edible.

You search for a while and EUREKA! You spot a boar, sleeping in the middle of a dead patch of grass. You creep towards it readying your dagger. Once you are close enough you pounce and kill it in fell swoop. You struggle to lift the weight as you are malnourished and your muscles feel weak and tired. But you have just enough strength left to drag it back toward the light of the fire. You cut off the leg, skin it, mount it on a stick, and place it over the fire. Your mouth salivates as you watch it roast slowly. While you wait you notice the heaviness of your eyelids. You try your best to not succumb to exhaustion, but you feel this is a battle you cannot win. Just as your are entering the dream state, the forest begins to tremble. Your eyes shoot open and in the midst of your weariness you are barely able to make out a flash of green.

You figure you must be dreaming, yet if you were, you would know it. No, this time is real.

You rise from the log, completely disregarding the boar leg roasting over the fire. You move toward the spot where the burst shone from, maneuvering around trees and bushes and eventually coming upon a woman face down in the dirt. She lies there, completely still. You slowly reach your hand towards her, careful not to make any sudden movement. You grab onto her shoulder and quickly flip her over. She flops over, almost as if she were lifeless. You bring you face closer to hers to observe if there is air coming from her nose, yet to your surprise, she seem to be trying to mutter something. You listen closely, yet she falls unconscious. You're barely able to make out the details of her face, so you drag her toward the fire and rest her against the log you were sitting on.

You examine her clothing. Witcher's clothing, yet only one sword on her back, and no medallion. You examine her face, a familiar looking one, a long scar on her cheek, and ashen colored hair. Could it be?

You pull the paper from your pocket to compare. Some of the details are off, her hair is a bit shorter in the portrait and there is no scar, but this either has to be her or a doppelganger. You figure there's not much to do now but either wait until the morning to take her to safety or wait until she wakes up. You find a stone and drag it closer to the fire.

You sit on the stone and watch over her, eating your boar leg as you await the morning sun.


	4. Truly Begins

The fire dies and the sun rises as you try to force yourself to stay awake, falling in and out of consciousness, making sure to keep your eye on the girl. You notice that you've been clutching onto your dagger the entire time as if you are expecting her to spring up at you, pretending to be unconscious the entire time. She doesn't show signs of waking up any time soon, so, taking into consideration that her father asked her to be returned unharmed, you decide that now would be a good time to inspect her for wounds. You release your grip on your dagger and move closer to her. You lay her flat on the ground and perform a quick look over for signs of active bleeding. You immediately notice dried blood on the left side of her torso. Thinking that what you are about to do may look suspicious to the average passerby, you scan your surroundings to make sure you are alone. You begin to remove her shirt when, in a flash, you're suddenly on your back and she is on top of you, her sword pointed straight at your throat.

"You have two seconds to tell me who you are and exactly what you think you were doing?"

You put your hands up, palms facing towards her, in submission. "I'm not here to hurt you. If you get off of me I'll answer everything you want to know."

She sits for a bit, but eventually decides to carefully remove her blade from it's position and sheath it on her back. "Don't even try running. I'm a lot quicker than you think." She gets off of you and sits cross legged on the ground, leaning against the log. "Who are you?"

"Jag."

"What did you think you were doing just now?"

Instead of answering with words you simply point to her left side where dry blood is evident on her clothing. She looks at it, surprised, and hastily untucks her shirt, pulls it up, and observes the wound.

"If it goes untreated it could get infected. I can help you if you'd like."

She looks worried. She looks around the forest, possibly to ensure there is no one around, then quickly removes her shirt.

"Do your work. We'll continue our question and answer session while you go ahead."

You grab alcohol, a rag, and wrappings from your sack.

"This is going to sting a bit."

You pour alcohol over the wound and she winces. Yet the questions continue to come.

"How did you find me?"

"I was looking for you, and you were brought to me by the great green flash."

"Looking for me? Why? Who sent you?"

You scrub the wound with the rag and she grinds her teeth.

"Ahh. Careful!"

"I told you it would sting. But to answer your question, your father did."

"My... You mean Emhyr?"

"Yes."

"Why? Why you? What did he say?"

"I am very skilled at finding people. He said he needed you back and that the Wild Hunt was after you."

"The Wild Hunt? How did he know-"

"Spies, I assume."

You put the rag away and measure out the wrappings.

"What makes you think you're so skilled at finding people?"

"Think?" You smirk and let out a snicker. "Take a good look at me, and I mean a really good look, and tell me what you see."

She turns to face you. Clad in black light armor, two swords, a crossbow, and a dagger sneakily strapped behind your back, a cape with a hood, glaring orange eyes, and medallion in the shape of a cat, her eyes grow wide, and you think she gets the hint.

"You're- you're a Witcher."

You nod. She turns away from you again and you tear off the amount of wrapping you need with your teeth.

"He sent you? If he wanted to send a Witcher he could've sent Geralt."

"Another Witcher? I heard he did send one out."

"He-"

She pauses, possibly contemplating how to choose her words carefully. She looks you in the eye. "I'm not going back."

"That's fine," you reply quickly. "I wasn't planning on taking you back just yet, anyway."

"You- What is you want from me?"

"You have something I need."

"Which is?"

"The Wild Hunts attention."

You wind the wrappings around her torso and tie them off, giving her a good pat on the side.

"That should hold."

She continues to stare, perhaps not noticing that you'd finished.

"You plan giving me away?"

"Quite the opposite, actually. I plan on killing them all."

She puts her shirt back on.

"So you want me to be a lure? And what if I refuse?"

"Then I would think you an idiot." You stand, hovering over her. "If you agree to help me destroy the Wild Hunt then as a notion of gratitude I will pledge you my sword and protect you to my dying breath."

She looks up at you, furrowing her brow. She crosses her arms, possibly skeptical of whether or not she should believe you.

"That is quite the offer. Although I find the deed to be improbable, I must ask, why are you so invested in this task?"

You respond without a second thought. "Revenge."

"What did they do to you?"

"In time, I may provide you with the answer. For now, that will remain my affair."

She looks away and mumbles something to herself for quite some time. For a few minutes, which might as well be hours, you endure the silence. Finally, she faces you and offers a response.

"Fine. I'll help you."

You reach your hand down and help her to her feet. You then kneel, pulling out your sword and laying it over your knee. You look up at her, her expression suddenly seems impatient.

"Shall I pledge?"

"I reckon your promise is good enough. Get up, we have work to do."

You stand to face her. Her arms are crossed and she is tapping her foot on the ground.

"Where shall we start, my lady?"

"Don't call me that. It's Ciri."

You clear your throat. "Then where shall we start, Ciri?"

She rubs her forehead while she thinks. She then positions her hand under her chin, resting her head on her palm.

"Before we find work towards the Hunt, I must find my friend. He is a powerful mage named Avallac'h."

"How did you lose him?"

"I-I dont know. I was in a village, Hindarsfjall. We were supposed to meet on the beach and... we were ambushed by the Wild Hunt. I narrowly escaped and I don't know what happened to him. When I came to, I was here."

"Hmm..." You rub your chin in thought. "We can start there, I suppose."

She she snaps her fingers. "Good idea. But where are we? How are we going to get there?"

"I don't know the answer to the first question. We have to walk."

"Walk? Don't you have a horse?"

"I lost my horse a while ago. I strapped her to a tree and when I came back she was gone. I haven't seen her since. If you've seen a black horse with red eyes that looks lost it's probably mine."

"A- nevermind. I suppose we should get moving then."

"If we pass by an inn I don't think it would hurt us to stay to the night."

She nods. "That we can agree on."

You and Ciri walk side by side through the forest, knowing that this is where your journey truly begins.


	5. It'll Be Fifteen

Even though it has only been a few hours since you and Ciri started walking, it feels like it's been days. The sun has beaten you two to a pulp and is just beginning to set as you spot a town in the distance.

"It'll be night soon. How about we stop there for the night?"

She agrees.

You pull your hood snugly over your head as you two enter the inn. You approach the innkeep who is currently distracted, wiping off the counter with a dirty rag. You clear your throat to get his attention. He speaks without discontinuing his task.

"What d'ya want?"

"A room and food."

"Fifteen each."

You place the money on the counter.

"We'll be in the back."

He waves you off, keeping on with his counter productive task.

You and Ciri take a seat at a small table in the back of the dank establishment. You look down at your hands, placed on the table, and you can hear Ciri tapping on the table as she whistles a tune. Annoyed, you ask her to stop.

"Well what else am I to do to pass the time? Sit here in silence with you?"

"Yes."

She turns her face away from you in defiance, resting a fist under her chin and continuing to tap and whistle, almost as if she were trying to annoy you at this point.

You grind your teeth in irritation trying to think of any way to get her to stop.

"How about we play a game?"

She stopped. "A game?"

"Yes. It's called the silent game. We both remain silent and-"

The tapping and whistling persisted.

You grunt in anger. "Do you drink?"

"Not really."

"Good." You flag down the hostess. When she makes her way to you, you put up two fingers. She places two mugs filled with alcohol on the table. You give her a few gold pieces in return. You put a mug in front of Ciri and instruct her to take a sip. She obliges and makes a disgusted face afterwards. You chug a third of your drink.

"How about this, what would you like to talk about?"

She contemplates. "Where are you from?"

"Not here."

"Would you like to be more specific?"

"No."

She irritably scrunches her nose at you. "Why are you such awful company?"

You take a sip from your mug and gently set it back down. "Am I? How so?"

Bafflement washes her face as if she can't believe you had the audacity to even ask that question. "How many others have you traveled with?"

"One, when I was a child."

"And what did they think of you?"

"They thought I was a child, I assume."

She scoffs and shakes her head. "I'd like to at least know a little something about who I travel with."

"What is there to know? I'm a Witcher-"

"I already know that." She taps the side of her face with her index finger. "Why won't you tell me where you're from?"

"I haven't been there since I was five. I hardly know it anymore."

"Why did you come here?"

"That's enough about me. How old are you?"

"How old? What's it matter?"

"You act like a child."

"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I haven't-"

"How old?"

She crosses her arms and leans back into her chair. "Nineteen"

"You are a child."

"And how old are you? Are you so much older than me?"

"A few years, maybe."

"Yet you act like a grumpy old hag."

Sarcastically, you clench you heart and wince. "Ouch, you really got me there."

"Maybe we should just sit in silence."

"Finally."

Completely wrought with agitation, she chugs the rest of her drink. You flag down the hostess again and ask for two more drinks and two pork sandwiches. You hand her a few gold pieces. When she returns, she gives you each a drink and a pork sandwich. You chug the rest of your drink and start on the next.

"Ciri?" She looks you in the eye, giving a sullen expression. "Look, I don't want to get off to a bad start. How about we converse over a meal? Pork is my favorite."

Suddenly, her sullen expression turn to one of gratification. "I would like that."

For the next few hours, the two of you enjoy drinks of mead and pork sandwiches. You piss the night away, smiling and laughing. In the middle of your sentence, you stop.

"What is it?"

You raise your finger as if trying to get a read on something mystical in the air through touch.

"Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

The doors of the inn are blown open by the wind. You breath into the air, able to see the condensation. Ciri's face becomes concerned. She whips around and sees that frost is creeping across the floor from the door and steadily spreading further inside. The cold is adorned by four Wild Hunt riders who come storming in.

The keep, who is polishing glasses at this point, doesn't even think to look up.

"It'll be fifteen per person if you plan on-"

One of the riders drives his sword straight into the keeps throat, ending his final sentence early. He looks to Ciri and points.

That is when you spring up onto the table, pulling out your crossbow and shooting an arrow right into his face. The other three look to their fallen comrade and give pause. One of them points to you and is heard saying, "Kill that one, and take the girl."

You grab Ciri and lift her onto the table. She wraps her arms around your abdomen.

"We need to leave!"

"But this is my best opportunity to-"

"We can't fight them all without help! There are more outside. They'll-"

"But-"

"You are my knight and I am ordering you to leave, now!"

Though you are conflicted, you are forced to agree.

"We still have to deal with them at least."

"Not right now. Close your eyes."

You follow her instructions and the two of you disappear from the inn in a green mist.


	6. In Time You Will

It's been two days since Ciri teleported the two of you to an area unfamiliar to you. It is now nighttime, so the two of you settle down, build a fire, and lean against logs for support. You feel calm, annoyed, but calm. You close your eyes, the heat from the fire burning against your eyelids, as well as the girl's stare. You don't look at her, but you know she is looking at you. You lazily open a single eye aimed in her direction.

"What," you ask.

She averts her gaze quickly, as if she you hadn't noticed her eyeing you.

"What," you repeat, louder this time.

"Uh, I don't mean to pry, but that scar on your face, how did you get it?"

The scar on your face.

You trace your index and middle finger along an etched line that runs from the top of your left brow, across the bridge of your nose, and down to your right cheek. The nasty thing has "healed" quite terribly since you got it and was often your favorite way of scaring off small children.

"This thing here? None of your damn business."

You cross your hands behind your head and close your eyes again.

"And you?"

"And I what?"

"How did you get that hideous thing?"

She scowls and crosses her arms. You don't see it, but in such a short time she's already become awfully predictable.

"Hideous?"

"Calm down, kid. I'm just kidding. You're actually quite pretty, really."

Her face and shoulders relax, but she doesn't smile. She doesn't want you to see that you've flattered her.

"Well I—"

You suddenly jolt up, eyes opening wide, raising a hand toward her to get her to quiet down. You raise your nose to the air, breathing in a heavy and audible sniff.

"Do you—do you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

You rise from your position, continuing to follow the scent. She follows close behind.

Around the tree, through the grasses, through bushes, and you've come upon a festival or party of some sort. The smell: roasted boar.

You turn to her.

"Where are we?"

"Here? Skellige maybe?"

You thankfully pat her on the shoulder and trot through the bushes, straight into the party.

Hands on your hips, you stand there, pridefully, as if the party was for you.

Everyone stops and faces you directly.

"Who in the blazes do you happen to be?"

"You got eyes, lady? I'm a witcher, and a hungry one at that."

Everyone clutches onto the person closest to them, as if you were there to feast upon them.

Ciri comes to your aid to clarify.

"I believe what my friend here meant to say was we've been lost in the forest for days, and we're quite hungry. We're not here to cause trouble, we would just like to know if we could join you all for the feast."

A younger woman with red hair, freckles, and a scarf comes to the head of the crowd.

"We ain't never been the kind to turn peoples away. Come on, everyone. Let 'em eat with us. They look absolutely famished."

"And they could surely use baths," an older woman calls from the back of the audience.

"And baths. I agree. Come, join us."

You give Ciri a friendly elbow to the ribs and join everyone for the feast.

* * *

It's hours later and everything has died down.

You strip down to nothing, sinking yourself in the freezing cold pool. A chill shoots through your bones. The night is quite warm, so you don't mind taking a cold dip. Not until you hear the pitter patter of bare footsteps behind you.

It's her.

She stops just short of entering. She doesn't say anything, but you can tell she is uncomfortable. You stand up and face her, bearing all of your naked glory.

"You act as if you've never seen another naked body before! Come on. Take a dip. I don't bite, and neither does the water."

You place your hands on your hips. You've made the situation much worse, but you don't care, as she gets into the pool anyways.

"Please sit beside me, I don't want to have to look at your face," you request bluntly.

Her mouth lays agape, but you don't care to explain to her your reasoning.

It's not her face, really. It's not the odd color of the hair, or the scar, the freckles, the nose, none of it.

It's her eyes. The color to be more specific. You close your eyes, and you see it. You try to push the thought away, but it won't escape you. The clinging jewels that she used to wear around her neck. The woman you miss so much yet will never see again. Her jewels were the same color as her eyes.

She sits directly beside you. You blatantly scoot away as if it's you who is uncomfortable with nudity. You look away.

You hear a light sniffle.

You realize that you've been absolutely terrible to the girl this whole time with no explanation. You care, sort of, but you just don't want to talk. It happened too long ago, over a decade, in fact, but you still don't want to talk.

But you do. At the very least, you try.

"Hey, kid, I don't mean to be mean or anything. It's just—"

"Well you are! You're an ass you know that?"

"Yeah. I do."

It's silent between the two of you for an eternity of minutes.

You give it some time, then you try to speak again.

"Listen, kid—"

"Ciri!"

"Hmph. Listen, CIRI, I'm trying to explain something to you. It's not… you're not ugly or anything…"

You scratch your head. You can tell that she is now listening intently as if she expects a sincere explanation.

"It's just… your eyes, alright. The color. It's—"

You take a deep breath.

"Really hard for me to talk about."

"I can't control it, you know."

"I know."

Three more lifetimes fly by as the two of you sit in silence once more. Suddenly, she stands without saying a word to you, or looking at you, and prepares to exit the pool. You instinctively reach out to her, grabbing her arm.

"What?"

"Listen to me, please."

She stares, surprised.

"Us Cat School Witcher's are fucked up people, alright. Real messed up. I just want you to know I'm not trying to be mean, or cold hearted, or anything like that. I really am trying my best, alright."

"Your best?"

She snatches her arms away and goes back to the signature cross arm pose.

"Please sit back down. I'm going to—I need to tell you something."

Somehow, you get her to follow your instructions.

"Do you know why I became a witcher?"

She shakes her head.

"I didn't want to have emotions anymore. The master witchers, they told me if I went through the trial of the grasses I wouldn't be vengeful, or full of sorrow. I wasn't supposed to feel anything at all."

"It appears to me that it didn't work."

"You're damn right it didn't! They stripped me of all emotions but one."

"And which one was that?"

"Anger."

You grip her shoulder firmly, but not tightly, as you stare into her eyes, breathing heavily.

"Now you know. Now you know everything."

"You're wrong. I don't know everything."

"But in time you will."

You stare at each other for a long time. Then she wraps her arms around you.

They're cold from the pool, but they give you a warm feeling. You suddenly feel relaxed. The first time in over a decade anyone has ever wrapped their arms around you.

You very lightly, and awkwardly, hug her back, forgetting the fact that you're both still naked, or maybe just not caring.

"You don't have to hate everything."

"I-I don't understand what you mean."

"But in time you will."


End file.
